Dreams
by Valiox
Summary: The story of a young, dreamy-eyed boy from the Village Hidden in the Mist, and how he comes to find his place in a world filled with violence and hate. OC x (To be decided)


**Prologue**

* * *

In the years following the Third Shinobi World War, feelings of hostility still ran rampant through the ninja of the five major Hidden Villages, especially those veterans who had seen atrocities committed by their new "allies". The villages were used to being self-reliant, and the new spirit of cooperation was slow to foster. All the while, minor skirmishes between small squads of ninja were common and somewhat unavoidable; it had not been openly accepted or condoned, but it wasn't unusual for a Chūnin or even a Jōnin to wind up dead at the hands of foreign shinobi. Whenever such an event would occur, any evidence of the battle would be carefully obscured by the victors in order to avoid a diplomatic incident - one country could not stand up to the combined retribution of the other four.

It was due to this new era of diplomacy that acts of espionage became all the more important, and the most powerful ninja were often dispatched to the other countries in order to keep tabs on their new allies. An outright act of aggression would surely lead to another war, but subtle assassinations and skilled spies were vital in ensuring that one nation never had a true advantage over the others; despite it all, the Village Hidden in the Leaves, Konoha, soon emerged as the most powerful of the great villages. This led to the other nations growing resentful. If Konoha's power continued to grow at such an exponential rate, it was unclear that any of the other villages would be able to keep them in check. Such fears were especially prominent in the Village Hidden in the Mist, Kiri. Several of the Mist's top shinobi were openly vocal about wanting to somehow suppress the power of the Leaf, and so an order was handed down in secret: all Leaf Village ninja were marked to be killed or captured on sight, with no trace left behind to be discovered. Without a body or signs of a struggle, no foul play could be linked back to Kiri.

It was in this environment that Yume grew up. Born to shinobi parents who harbored intense feelings of bitterness against the Leaf Village, Yume was constantly told that Konoha ninja were evil people who desired nothing less than total world domination. Yume was a shy, quiet child, who couldn't understand how anyone could be born evil. Despite his parents' teachings, Yume strove to see the good in everyone, even the hardened instructors at Kiri's ninja academy, who only a few years before had been forced to pit their students against each other in death matches.

The adjustment period was difficult.

"Yume!" Instructor Mitsu shouted, slamming her hand down on the table before the child. Her greying hair was pulled up into an extraordinarily tight bun, and Yume was always surprised that her hair didn't rip free from her head. "I don't recall placing my chalkboard outside. Pay attention to the front of the room like the rest of your peers!"

The dreamy-eyed child blinked, slowly brushing his drooping black bangs away from his forehead. He was dressed in a simple black shirt and pants, and hardly resembled a prospective ninja. "But...Mitsu-sensei, the rain is so pretty. Look..." He pointed out the window at the drizzle, seeming not to notice the giggles and snickers of his classmates. "The way it makes the tiniest splashes on the window and the concrete...it's beautiful."

Mitsu's hand came down again, and this time it caught Yume's attention. His head snapped forward and his innocent brown eyes went wide. "S-Sorry sensei, I'll p-pay attention..."

"Good," the instructor said gruffly, turning and walking back to the front of the room. "If I have to remind you again of where your eyes should be, this entire class is going to do fifty laps around the track, in the rain and the mist!"

Yume lowered his head bashfully to avoid the angry glares he received. His classmates were no longer so joyful, it seemed, but it wasn't something unusual. He was almost always falling asleep or getting distracted by something or another, despite how often his teacher attempted to correct his behavior. How could he be expected to focus on the blackboard when the world outside was so pretty...?

"YUME!" He had been daydreaming again, and everyone in the class knew what that meant. A great groan went up, and Yume blushed deeply. Another day gone by and he was no closer to graduating the Academy, and no closer to gaining any sort of approval from his classmates or from his teacher.

* * *

Instructor Mitsu looked across her desk at the black-haired child, her lips drawn into a thin line. She always looked so severe, and Yume found it difficult to look at her for extended periods of time. Her eyes seemed to bore into him. "Yume," she said, firmly but with the barest hint of gentleness. "This will be your second time attempting the graduation exam, and not once have you shown any potential for jutsu of any kind. Are you listening?" Her words cut through the air sharply, and Yume flinched, nodding and keeping his gaze low. "Good." Her eyes softened somewhat. "I have no more desire than you do to see you in my class for another year. You do show some intellectual potential, so I have come to an understanding with the other instructors. If you can successfully perform the Water Clone Jutsu, I will allow you to pass."

Yume's eyes flicked up to the instructor's well-lined face before he looked back down. "But...I've never been able to make a Water Clone before..."

Mitsu nodded slowly, her lips as thin as ever. "I am aware of your previous attempts. But...perhaps it will work today." She pointed to the center of the classroom, where all the desks had been cleared out to allow for as much space as possible. A trough filled with water had been brought in to serve as a source for the potential graduates' ninjutsu.

Yume stood and walked slowly away from the desk. The sound of his sandals on the floor sounded almost like a death march, and he kept his eyes on the floor as he turned back around, standing behind the trough, his trembling hands coming up to his chest. "Wh-What's the sign again, sensei?"

"Tiger," Mitsu sighed, sitting back in her chair and fully expecting another failure. She shut her eyes for a moment, trying to determine if she had done some kind of wrong in her instruction of the child.

"R-Right, Tiger..." His fingers formed the unfamiliar sign and he shut his eyes, trying to focus his chakra on the water in front of him, as he had been taught; pour his chakra into the liquid, mold it, shape it into a figure that perfectly resembled himself. Nothing happened; he began to tremble harder, and a bead of sweat slid slowly down his neck. He thought of Kiri, the village he had called home for twelve years. He thought of his parents, away on a mission to the Land of Fire. He thought of how disappointed they would be to see him fail in the most simple of Water Style Jutsu, but conversely, how proud they would be to see him rise as a stellar shinobi of the Mist Village.

His eyes opened with a newfound determination that surprised the instructor. Yume took a slow breath and stared at the water in front of him. "Water Style: Water Clone Jutsu!" The water slid slowly over the edge of the trough, as if someone had tipped it, and slid across the floor, stopping next to the child. It grew upon itself and slowly took shape, becoming an exact replica of Yume in a matter of moments.

He looked at the Water Clone in astonishment, as did Instructor Mitsu. She stood and moved forward. "I don't believe it. It isn't perfect, mind you, it's fragile and missing a few things...such as the right ring finger...but this is an acceptable Water Clone. Congratulations, Yume. You pass."

* * *

Yume gave a short exhale, his cheek resting on the cold mud. Something sprayed across his lips from his throat; spit, maybe? Phlegm? No...it was blood. The burning in his lungs told him it was definitely blood. He took another ragged breath as he tried to recollect his thoughts, keeping his eyes on the ground, away from the two corpses lying prone in the mud a few feet away. How long had he been laying there? A week? A day? A minute? The pain was so great that he couldn't tell. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the kunai knives buried in the backs of his teammates, and he felt the cold steel of another lodged between his lung and his spine. His teammates had been lucky, killed instantly by the blow, but a fraction of an inch meant that Yume still clung to a life that was quickly slipping away.

His sensei had planned the ambush of a hooded shinobi who was clearly foreign. He had told them to circle the enemy while he charged forward and delivered the final blow, but all of that had gone out the window. The shinobi had used a shadow clone to lure the Mist ninja into an ambush of his own, striking down the other two genin with merciful, painless deaths. Yume's sensei had struck the enemy's arm as he threw the third kunai, and Yume was spared; the two had gone off further into the woods to continue their battle, leaving Yume there to die slowly.

In that moment, he came to the realization that his sensei didn't care for his students; they were pawns, bait to be thrown out to lure the enemy into a trap. He shut his eyes and felt bitterness lap at him as his life slipped away, soaking into the muddy forest floor. It didn't seem fair. Why did his sensei have no compassion? Why did he not stay behind to protect his students? Why had he left them to die?

A warm hand came down lightly on Yume's arm, and his eyes shot open. He couldn't see the figure of the ninja crouching in front of him - only his legs - but it was immediately apparent that it wasn't his sensei. "Oh, no. You're alive, kid. I didn't know..."

Yume's eyelids fluttered slowly shut. Was the ninja going to kill him? No, he was...he was being lifted up off of the muddy floor, being carried. Had he already died? Was this what death was like? All of his thoughts were jumbled and muddled by the pain in his back, as well as the increasing sense of fatigue that crept over him. He couldn't move, much less put up a fight against whoever was carrying him away.

* * *

"Hey, kid? You awake?" The gentle voice, along with the soft sounds of a crackling campfire, woke Yume from his reverie. He was laying on a blanket, next to a small fire, and the forest floor was considerably less muddy. The man behind the fire looked to be in his mid-20s, wearing a dark green flak jacket and black pants. He had a kind-looking face with blue eyes and close-cropped blond hair, with bandages wrapped around his upper right arm. His forehead protector had the symbol of the Leaf Village upon it, and Yume immediately went wide-eyed with fear.

"Y-You're from the Leaf! P-P-Please don't k-kill me," he stammered, trying to scoot away but failing to move more than an inch. The boy winced, realizing his torso was bare and wrapped in bandages. "I don't want to die here!"

"Hey, hey, take it easy!" The older ninja put up his hands, easing away slightly. "I'm not going to kill you, but I couldn't let you sit there and die in the mud. You were a defenseless kid, I couldn't leave you there in good conscience. That isn't the way of the Leaf shinobi." He gave a small, somewhat crooked smile that made his eyes brighten. "I cleaned your wound and bandaged you up. I'll take you to the hospital once we get back to Konoha."

Yume whimpered at that. His trembling hand inched down his leg toward the pouch of ninja tools strapped to his hip, and he withdrew a small pill from it. Mitsu-sensei had always made one thing very clear in the Academy; Kiri ninja could never be captured alive. "You...you can't take me away from my village!" He opened his mouth wide and lifted the pill, but was stopped immediately by the other ninja, who reached through the fire to grab his wrist. He wasn't burned; in fact, the flames seemed to part around his arm.

"I'm not letting you kill yourself right in front of me," he muttered gruffly. "Come on, what kind of host would that make me?" He plucked the pill from Yume's fingers and tucked it into his flak jacket. "Besides, if you somehow manage to make it back to the Mist Village on your own, they're going to kill you themselves. Your squad is all dead, and you fell into the hands of the enemy."

Yume paused and looked down at the grass beneath him. The Leaf ninja was right. He was without a home now. He glanced up, astonished to see that the other shinobi was still holding out his hand.

"We're going back to Konoha. The Hokage will know what to do."


End file.
